Malaika
by Blazeraptor54
Summary: "I'm an angel to some, demon to others, used formerly human. Now, I don't know what I am, tell you the truth, I don't think I'm ever going back to being normal ever again. So, tell me something, why did you do it? Why did you betray my mother?" I questioned a man with blonde yellow hair, and blue ocean eyes similar to my own. He only chuckled, then I felt the impact of wind.
1. The Nature of mankind

" _The deserts of Africa, The Sahara being the largest of them, hold many secrets. Entire civilizations, lost treasures, ancient skeletons. The likes, it truly is wonderful, on what they hide. Be it from the past, or...well, recent history."_

The sounds of gunfire cracked across the silent desert, people screaming, crying out. Begging, some demanding, others ordering.

" _Africa...the cradle of life. It was said that life originated here, in this beautiful, yet silent landscape. I don't why they believed this so, was it the fossils they discovered, deeply buried knowing? All I know, I now watch as many people are lined up...and a even smaller number of people stand behind them."_

"Fire!" A man wearing a red barret shouted.

" _The scent of blood, it's metallic, it's something you never forget. The taste, the texture, all of it...forever burned in your mind. So, who are these people, why are other people doing this? Well, it's simple, it's the basis of human nature."_

Another clap of gunfire sounded as more people dropped dead.

" _Now, I make it sound as an insult, but in reality its nature's natural law. The strong survive, the weak die, and the strong get to breed that next generation. I mean, ask yourself this, when has there never been a war? World War One, after fifties years of peace, it lead to the second bloodiest battle in human history. All for what, nobility, fortunes, land, and resources. It's the basis of all civilizations, and many of these civilized people aren't too keen on sharing resources."_

A pile of bodies lay in a mass grave, bulldozers come towards the group, picking up sand to bury the people in.

" _So, why? Why do I watch this happen, and not intervene? It's rather simple, I'm busy, I'm too busy actually. I'm currently running, I'm running away because I escaped this massacre. I had a gun in my hands, at eleven years old this memory burned deep in my mind."_

"Run Naruto!" A red headed woman shouted only to get shot dead in the stomach.

" _So...why do I begin my story here? It's simple, the gunshot...it echoed, like her scream."_

The blonde stopped running, he turned around, seeing his mother fall to the ground. Her arm outstretched for her child, gurgling the orders for him to run. The man who held the trigger, a man with a nice suite, dressed in all black.

He only chuckled as he motioned the trucks to head for the boy.

" _This was massacre, women, children, men too feeble to fight. I watched my mother slump to the ground, she was dying. Nothing, I couldn't do nothing,, but watch. The gun I held, it had one bullet in it. At eight years old, I knew about death, I watched my grandmother Tsunade pass on. My mother taught me about life, and death that day. She now laid dying in front of me, slowly, and that bastard of man had brandished a knife."_

"Mother!" The blonde screamed as the men neared him.

" _I don't know what happens next...it's all a blur really, I do remember her however. She held such life in her blue eyes, my mother did, and it slipped away so slowly. Even from the distance I was at, I could feel it, I could see it."_

The blonde watched as they approached him, he stood there motionless, his eyes spilled tears. Those ocean like eyes created a river down his tan face. The man cheered, jeered, and cursed him. Naruto, the child was only eight, and he stood in the face of death.

He closed his eyes, the first gunshot ripping into the sand next to him. Finally, when he couldn't bare it any longer, he snapped his eyes opened.

Once blue like the ocean waters of the pacific, they had turned a thick red like crimson blood. His eyes took on that of a demons, they glowed with rightful rage, and hatred.

" _I don't know what happens next after watching her life fade away, but I felt it. My skin burned, my mind burned, my fingers felt sticky. I remember screaming, I remember fire as it caressed my skin, and I most certainly remember her eyes. The visage I would see in every moment of pain, in every moment I dreamed."_

Inside the desert, a black smoke column rose from the grounds, all around black flames surrounded the area. In the center of them all, a lone blonde hair boy, clenching the body of his mother.

Weeping, scared, and tired.

The charred remains of nearby soldiers, and the man in the suit smelt foul. The black flames in the area gave a very unnatural glow, and popped every time they found a droplet a gasoline.

" _That day I changed...I became something inhuman, something much more...yet so much less. I don't remember the battle, I didn't know why at the time so many holes were in my body, slowly closing up. I didn't know why black fire was present, all I knew I wanted my mother, and we all wished for things we wanted. Well, if I could a single wish..."_

A tear made entirely of blood trailed down the blonde's face.

" _I would want her back."_


	2. A seven year journey

I don't know why, why it drags me back, into the void. I sleep restless, each day, every night. I awake, her face still in my dream. Seven years later, fifteen years old, and still trying to sort out what happened to me that day.

I figured as much, no normal human would ever have much concern anything involving occult, or wayward matters. The fact that I'm still decently human looking is a blessing, red eyes mark where my innocent blue eyes once stood.

They opened I supposed, to the blood, to the reality that is the world.

Many people, they're taught that the world is decent, the world is justified in what it gives you. Is it really?

Did my mother deserved to die, did my mother's friends deserve those gunshots? The innocent children, some even young than me? Today, I'm making a message, and it all starts with this fat fuck I have in my hands.

Gato, a man from a small fishing town in Japan. He was a known criminal, a crime lord even in the old country. He shipped guns many places, guess where he shipped most? Africa, business was a literally booming every year.

It's like that one movie, Lord Of War? Nicholas Cage, where he goes there, and many other places. He disguises these shipments, almost all the time changing the ship's name? Paying local law enforcement

"Let me go bastard, you hear me, I'll have my thugs come and kill you! If you kill me, you're a dead man, I swear it! You hear me you oni mask wearing fuck!" He screamed at me, thinking it would delay the end a little longer.

I simply walk over to him, punching him right in the face, and I hold a photo of a gun salesmen towards his right eye.

"Do you see this man, I'm hunting for him, do you know him?" I ask. "I will not ask twice."

"Yeah, Gunther, German fuck. He gives me good product every once month. Heavy guns, like missiles, machine guns, you name it! Mostly Russian Import, why? You with that fuck, come here to _tie_ loose ends?" I only smirked at his fear.

"Maybe I am, tell me Gato, do you sell to The Kifo Wavunaji?" He nodded like a good little dog to my questions, truly loyalty was very thin among his kind.

"Why yes now tell me, since we're so keen on trading information, who the fuck are you?!" Gato screamed as loud as he could, hoping to intimidate me.

The thing is, you see, I'm a fox. Gato here, he's a fat rabbit, a very plump morsel. Now, if Gato had been a wolf, I would naturally steer clear, but last I checked foxes found rabbits quite tasty. So, all the talking in the world wasn't going to get him away from me.

"Well, what is it? Should I call myself Batman? Nah, I think that's taken already, oh...I know. Deathstroke?" I grin as he grew a face full of fear. "No...I'm not that good yet, key word, yet."

"Stop playing games!" I grabbed my katana's scabbard, and held it at his throat.

He wasn't too keen on shouting at the moment to say the least.

"Games, no, I've played my games. Your guards are dead, your so called _family_ thinks your a rat." I chuckle. "I've played a very good game indeed, looking at back at it."

"W-who are you, please, I won't...I'll give you everything I have!" He begged as he struggled on the bindings I had him in.

I chuckle, before full blown laughing, then I gather some spit in my mouth. I look right in his eyes as I spit on him. I back off, taking a few steps. I walk over towards a few crates, after all, I set up shop in many warehouses.

I grab a tripod from behind a couple of crates, and a camera. I set the camera up on the tripod right in front of Gato. The man looked at me, before shaking his head, did he know now who I was?

"You're Malaika, the one responsible from Carlos' death. Wha-what, no, that means. You motherfucker, you will not use me to further you, I'm not your fucking toy!" Gato screamed as he thrashed in the bindings.

I walked around him, and slowly unwrapped the chain around my sword. When I stopped walking, I moved to the camera turning it on, and slowly I unsheathed my katana from it's scabbard. Gato had a look of fear as my eyes lit up inside the darkness that my shadow casts upon him.

"Here stands, another criminal, to be judged by the gods themselves. I have here, a murderer, a coward. I hold within my hands a Masamune Blade. A sword, said by legend to only harm the wicked. If this man is innocent, then I'll release him from bondage." I said as I got behind him, and pointed the tip of blade directly at his neck.

"No, no, no! Please, this man is lying, I'm honest business man! I'm an honorable man, kill this man if you see him, kill hi-aaaaahhhh!" I slowly pressed my blade into his neck.

Blood slowly seeped from the wound, not a splash as most people would expect. He roars out in pain as I touch the tip of my blade onto his spine. With one, very large I might add push, my blade goes through his neck.

Blood drips down my sword, so slowly, I pull it back. The wet sound wasn't music to my ears, many people I'm a madman, in all honesty death wasn't something I like have a business in. Then again, it was a necessary.

Men like Gato got away everyday, and police were always bribed, but here in Japan justice was served today. Funny, I'm usually branded the monster, when I'm the one who actually slays them. Can't use legal bullshit loopholes if your dead right?

Through his gurgled breathing, I know he is still alive, and I smile as walk towards the camera. He's whimpering, his life is slowly flowing away, like so many before him. I turn the camera off, and swipe the blood off my sword.

I then slam it back into it's scabbard, sealing it with it's chain. Looking at Gato, I decide to go ahead, slowly I bring my hand to my mouth. I exhale, and slowly a ball of black fire comes onto my hand.

"You'll burn in this life, and in the next for all your crimes Gato. This business isn't something I love to do, but people like deserve nothing short I've what I'm giving you. You kill innocent people, indirectly I may add, but still you know what you do." I spoke, nearing the damned man.

"You deserve nothing, gain nothing, and with my flame. I slowly burn you to ash, if you are able to remain conscious...scream loud. Let someone hear your cries, let it fall on deaf ears, like many people being lined up. Let your begging, let your _filthy_ innocence be proclaimed to all. Then, as my flames reach your heart, I'll make sure the rats of Japan have a feast. The main course, being some fat fuck, in a suit and tie." I said with as much venom as possible to the dying man.

I place my hand on his leg, it slowly caught fire, and I began to walk away. His gurgling becoming louder as I left the camera behind, my red hoodie obscuring my face as I exited the building.

He gurgled, trying to live probably, it wouldn't matter. My flames would consume as time went by.

* * *

The rain was heavy, it was pouring down, faster than I could track. Thousands of droplets in my vision, hundred of people. My eyes hidden by sunglasses, the people all around me talked of their day, and I found myself wondering constantly on how humanity is like this.

How they walk by, seeing homeless people on the streets, yet do not care. Allowing children to live in such squallier. Truth be told however, I envy some of them, they had their parents with them.

My mother was taken before her time in Africa, she was actually a popular singer inside of Japan. Her name, she was Kushina Uzumaki. In fact, seven years later, some people still lit candles for her.

My mother, the reason we were in Africa, it was supposed to be a humanitarian campaign for the back drop of her new song. A Journey Home, a song about a refugee, and a soldier walking together, hoping one day to see their homes.

We were on our way towards Kenya, her shows were free, and often times she allowed other children to sing. Me, I had no such talent, my talent laid mostly with my ability to play guitar. A ability I never use now, I don't have a reason to, and maybe never will again.

I wouldn't lie, each year, it gets better. Her visage still haunts me, but it's now routine, sort of like a cancer patient going through chemotherapy. They know they have to go to it, and at first it hurts, but then it's just scheduled out.

Each day assigned, carrying out the task, and each day a new struggle to live in the seemingly last.

The saddest story of all, it's how I came to be what I am today. An assassin of sorts, and no I never had a master of any kind. I taught myself, I stole my katana actually, and worked everyday from then on. However, that was just recently in the last three years.

For other four, I was a child soldier, I didn't escape Africa at the behest of my mother. I got captured, again, and when I tried using my powers they saw my potential as a weapon. So, a year of intense torture, I was begging for the chance to make them stop.

It came one day, I was nine.

I could tell because I counted each and every moon cycle. Twelve in a year right, or thirteen in some years? Anyway, I'm thinking off track now, I was sent in. Bounded by chains like a dog, to a tribe along the ivory coast.

My mission, my chance at freedom, was to raze it to the ground.

However, things didn't go as planned, the tribe had set an ambush. The man that had been my torturer for years had been critically wounded. That's when I saw another option to freedom, so I took a knife had been given to scalp the tribe's leader after I burned the chains off me.

Guess what I did next...it was almost biblical.

The tribe I thought would kill me, but it surprised me when they opened their arms to me, and called me an Malaika. A word in Swahili meaning Angel, I didn't think I was, I was demon in my book .

Angels weren't depicted sprouting black flames.

Fast forward two years, I was able to speak their language fluently. Turns out I was a quick learner, who knew? Anyway, that's when a terrorist group, the same supposedly linked to my mother's assassination attacked us.

I fought hard, but, it wasn't enough. They attacked with long range mortars, and scattered the tribe, and with it my last visage's of true family.

The irony now is, when I see homeless people, people that are nomads wondering around everyday. Trying to survive, I also envy their children. No matter how hungry, sick, or tired they were. They still had family, me, I was just an orphan.

A dog of war, a murderer by some standards, an angel to others. Sometimes I look into the mirror, and wonder, under all the changes that make me less human...is the old Naruto still in there?

Malaika Za Kifo, that was who I was now. A red eyed Angel Of Death, as named by the chief of that nomadic tribe. There are days, I'll admit it, that I often try to make the whistle call. A call that was supposed to be responded by another of the tribe.

I hoped that I would run into some I at least saw, but in this world, I had no such luck.

I can't help it, I look around The Nara, doing the whistle call over, and over. I got into this lonely mood a lot, when I truly felt alone, and usually made the call. I spent a year in Japan, and I made sure to settle all business involving my family.

Secret wise to it, I faked my own death...suicide.

I forfeited my wealth, simple really, I faked my death. I never earned it, and I didn't want it. Money doesn't bring back the dead, no matter how much you had.

I forfeited my name, for it was hollow. Uzumaki, my surname, I didn't want it anymore. I was an orphan, a child without family. I had no living relatives, so it would just be the tragedy of a family passing forever away from the world.

In a way, no offense to my mother, I was a by-blow child. I never knew my father, and honestly I was going to bother searching. Part of me telling me it wouldn't be worth it, and if that bastard had loved me, then he'd tried to find me...or have anything to do with me.

Another part, instinct maybe, told me to never bother for different reasons. Something told me that the past was just better laid buried, then reawakened.

* * *

I was lost in my thoughts, that I never noticed that I was surrounded by deer. Nara had a funny way of doing that, deer wild untamed, yet unafraid of mortal men. I sighed as I petted one of them, slowly feeling it's fur.

I petted it's underside, and felt a very large bump. I was touching a female, and she was with a child. I smiled, in a way, birth is the absolution of all sin. A gift of life, the most special thing in the world, and something that always made women in my mind superior to men.

The ability to have children, to give birth, and breath new life into the world. A life that has no sin, no guilt, no wrong. In all honestly, I always think about the what ifs...

What if I track all my mother's killers down, kill them all, and be done with it. Could I then just stop being Malaika? Could I then be happy, settle down even, have a child of my own. I fear, that in the end of it all, I'll still be standing all alone.

A dog of war.


	3. Assassin Of Nara

I call out to her, she's laying on the cold sandy ground. She has empty blue eyes, void of any pupil. Dried tear stains on her cheeks, I'm my eight year old self again, running...always running towards her. I tried to reach out, only for the clap of gunshot to snap me back to my starting point.

I don't know how many nights out the seven years I had this dream, I lost count, sometimes I wake up only to fall back to this hell. She calls my name, every time, telling me to run. Part of me wishes that I never had turned back.

If I hadn't seen the moment, I think I'd been human for a much longer period, probably remained human. So, as I arose from this next nightmare, I was inside Nara's forests. Wildlife bristled around me, I could feel them, like they had an energy and I was the detector of the said energy.

My powers, I didn't fully explain them to anyone, not even the chief when I told him my story at eleven years old. He had asked for what I would wish for if I could only have one chance, and I always answered him the same.

My mother.

Even now, at fifteen years old, that wish would still remain the same. If I can remember, I was brought back to Japan, after a United States Military Convoy picked me up. They noted my odd eye color, but still once I was announced to be alive I was sent back to Japan.

Reporters, for a year I was bombarded with questions, many of them about Africa.

I hated it, so when it came time, I found out an interesting other power. My ability to create a clone, not just any normal clone, a clone that was made up of my blood. It wasn't easy, it took me quite a time to perfect it.

The doctors had wondered why the medicine wasn't working on me, why it didn't curb my depression. It was rather simple, I wasn't depressed, I was motivated.

I was motivated to leave the spot light, the tragedy child of Kushina Uzumaki. Swearing to never to kill innocent people is hard to do, especially since the reporter who had gave me the nickname regularly made cracks at me.

So, when I was twelve, turning thirteen I acted on my new power.

They found _me_ in a bathtub, a knife to my side inside the tub of red water, and assumed that the media pressure drove me to end it all. Ironically, it had became a top news story in Japan, so I had to lay low for a year afterwards.

That year, from the time I was thirteen to fourteen, I trained myself.

It's rather simple really, Japan's cities almost always hugged the coastline, and it not to mention that there was forest thick enough for me to hide out in. I often would come out, to gather the medicine I needed if I had fallen ill.

The year of training, it was all focused on my two powers. My clone power, which I dubbed _Blood Clone Technique_ , my fire which I had come to call _Amaterasu_ after the sun goddess. In reality, my powers weren't just limited to two.

I had much faster speed than any man, I was very flexible, and had the agility of graceful dancer. Bare in mind, I wasn't a glass canon. The fact I can survive a shotgun blast to my sternum was a testament to my own durability.

However, I'll be honest, I thought I was dead. It hurt, the pain of the shells ripping through my organs was the worst, and it only hurt more when my own body pushed them out. To my own benefit, and possibly a byproduct of my ability to use fire, I was immune to flames.

No flame could harm me, in a way, it only seemed to obey me. I tested it out numerously, for a time I used to secretly sneak into burning buildings and sneak out the residents. Often times they had been knocked out.

I had to keep from being in the spotlight, in the former, and in the next life as Malaika. So, in the forests I learned to hunt, and use a katana I stole from a monastery. During that time, I actually stole some books, and learned how to make antidotes for poisons.

I self taught myself how to survive, and I had done so perfectly. I'm probably the most capable, deadly, and strongest fifteen year old in the world.

I knew my limits however, not like I'd challenge Superman to fight me...that's more or less a one sided battle. Batman either, he may be human, but he'd wipe the floor with me in tactical attacks. However, I've yet to fight any super villain.

No super baddies for this guy yet, and honestly I wouldn't want to engage them. I'm not afraid of them, it's just that I'm out for blood for the people who killed my mother...not all criminals. Which bare in mind, I do have three standing rules.

One, you try to rape someone, you're dead.

Two, you try to kill someone in cold blood, refer to rule one.

Three, you're working for The Kifo Wavunaji, then please refer to rule two.

Now, as for I am in Nara, I'm here because I tracked down another member of the terrorist organization somewhere in the City of Nara. My goal, it was quite simple, kill him and all who were with him.

Turns out Gato's secret documents weren't so hard to find either, which pointed to his father being one of the gun runners on the day my mother died, and I was gleefully going to end this man's life.

Right after I attempt to get information from him, by _any_ means necessary.

* * *

Three days in Nara, I had found him, Buibui. His name was Swahili for Spider. He was Kifo Wavunaji General. A very low profile general, who acted as a salesmen for their group. He enjoyed a life of great wealth, and very great amounts of privilege.

He also like to frequent The Green Gardens, a multistory nightclub. It was for the very wealthy, and most of the participants were made of the so called _Young Money Generation_. Basically, children who were rich, and spent exorbitant amounts of their dads' money.

A generation of punks, losers, and spoiled brats.

My target was part of this _Young Money Generation_. He frequented this club for the alcohol, and the women. The Green Gardens had a whorehouse they ran secretly, paying off cops to keep their noses out of the establishment.

Either with cash, or sex.

Buibui was an African man, but wasn't very dark skin, he was mixed. Kind of like I am, my mother being true Japanese with tan skin, while I assume my father was whiter than snow, luckily I inherited my mother's skin tone.

No reasons to look more demonic than I do already.

He had green eyes, a mop of dreadlocks on his head, and a suitcase full of money. After all, what else would you carry into a whorehouse nightclub? The next likely case would be guns, but by judging the lack of security tonight I highly doubted it.

I checked out the exterior areas of palace like club, and saw that the top of it was an open venue. I smirked, it was such an easy exploitable chink in his defense, and I was going to use it fully.

I was on the opposite building, a building overlooking the venue. I had a plan to get over to the club's roof, and it involved me getting a running start. So, I backed away from the ledge overlooking my target's club.

I got a running start, dashing across the tall building's roof, and I took a leap of faith. The air rushed over my cloaked figure, the black cloak fluttered in the wind as my plastic mask struggled to stay on my face.

The plastic mask, more accurately, a Guy Fawkes' Mask. Stayed on my face, I had picked it up in a local shop for a quick supply run, and no I didn't pay for anything. The mask itself was just a few yen, and the knives I had picked up from a grocery store were still not really worth the money they charged.

They were dull, but with my hand, they'd be sent with enough force to pierce body armor. Under the black cloak I was wearing just a long sleeve blue shirt, and blue sweatpants. I didn't see reason for body armor, my body was nigh invincible anyway.

Plus the body armor would just weigh me down, and I couldn't have that right now.

My legs caught the ground, and I tumbled forwards, successfully landing on the club's roof. I heard the loud music blaring as I looked over the edge. It was playing some type of remix of a middle eastern music, Buibui was sort of into the stuff from what I gathered.

That's when I saw that man, he was escorted by four armed guards, thankfully just pistols. I hated healing from shotguns, let alone assault rifles. He was in escort of two women, barely dressed. I could see their naked bodies through the dress, they weren't really that pretty.

Everything about them screamed fake, and I was more than willing to fight them if I had to.

I sat up there, waiting to see if anyone else was coming up. When I notice two of the guards leave with one of the women I grew sick to my stomach. I was no stranger to sex, I had witness willing sex, and rape when I was in Africa. It wasn't a pretty sight, the worse thing was always the begging.

I watched as the bastard got comfortable, that's when I descended on top of the guards. They didn't have time to react when I slammed my knives into their throats. The foolish bitch that was all over Buibui went for a gun, so I pulled one of the knives out of the guards' throat and hurled it at her.

It struck her dead between her eyes, sending her limply to the ground. The two other guards came running from around the venue, guns ready, but I easily took one out from the other knife I had on me. Hitting him right in his left eye, he was dead before hitting the ground.

The last guard was about to point his gun at me, when I merely looked into his eyes. My eyes red met his brown, he slowly became slack, and put the gun at his head. I smirked as I snapped my right hand's fingers.

He shot himself, his blood spraying across the wall.

That was my third ability if I was able to stare into someone's eyes long enough, and they had a weak will, I could command them. Buibui was reaching for his gun when I brought my eyes to him, he dropped his gun in pain as I pointed my palm at it.

Black flames burned the pistol to molten metal, his hand was being burned to the bone. He fell to his knees, screaming out in pain. I merely scuffed at him, and went to the doors. I used my flames to seal their metal frames together.

"Hello Buibui, I'm sure you remember me." I said as I removed my mask.

His eyes almost widened in horror, after all, he had been one of the generals that had ordered the massacre innocent tribal colonies in The Ivory Coast. He backed away, his skin falling off as he dragged the dead hand on the ground.

"Y-you, you are dead, killed by your own hand! How do you live?!" He had a great deal of fear in his eyes, honestly, I couldn't blame him.

"Because, I am the sins of your father Buibui, speaking of which where is your old man?" I asked as I stalked towards him, removing my katana scabbard from a strap on my back.

"Fuck, you!" He screamed between breaths as he hissed in pain from the wound I gave him.

"Oh no, I wouldn't want that near me, besides your probably littered with diseases you man whore. Now, where is your father, is he in the city? If he is, I can drop your fucking head off at the nearest location." I demanded, he only resisted further, spitting at my feet.

"I will never betray my father, you cunt, I'll kill you! Then I'll kill whose ever alive in your family, I'll put their fucking head on a spike!" Buibui screamed as I walked closer.

I grabbed his right leg, raising it up in the air. I frankly got tired of him trying to use it to crawl away, so I took my left foot, and stomped into it. The sound of his bone breaking flooded my ears, blood seeped onto the ground where it broke through the skin.

He roared out in pain, and I grabbed his other leg, doing the same thing. I made sure to grind my foot into his knee, pushing it's bone through his skin.

"Ah, God, ah goddamn it! Please...please stop!" He begged me.

"Oh plenty of people said that, didn't they, women and children alike? You didn't show leniency did you, you reap what you sow Buibui! My mother taught me that much, and now look at you broken by a demon of your father's creation." I said as I allowed his leg to slump to the ground in a heap, he screamed out in pain, begging for me to stop.

"All of this can end, just tell me where your father is, be a good little bastard." I continued, sending my foot onto his chest, slamming him flat on the ground.

"I'll...never tell you! Demon!" Buibui shouted at me.

"Call me a demon, yet I kill you, murderer. I'm not truly demon aren't I, nor angel, I'm something much less. I'll tell you what, just tell me where your father is, and I'll let you go. Deal?" I jokingly ask as I sit on top of his chest, holding his arms with my feet.

I press my feet into his wrists, slowly I felt them pop. When he yelped, I knew I had broken them, and I looked to see him crying. Sobbing, he knew I was going to him didn't he? Too bad as well, but I bet I could find his father either way.

"Looks like I accidentally pressed too hard, oops." I spoke as soft as possible as I removed my feet from his wrists.

I get up from him, and he just shrivels up in fear, he's crying. I walk over to the sound system on the venue, the music had stopped playing. So, I decided to play my own music, I reached into my pocket.

"You know my mother was a talented singer, she loved the world, she loved children. I was always her favorite, but I believe if she had her way, I wouldn't have been the only child. She told me one day she couldn't have any more kids, something happened during my birth that caused it, I felt so guilty...but she told me everything was going to be okay." I spoke as I pulled out a heavy metal disk.

I put it inside the machine, making it play, I bop my head to it. Slowly I make my way back towards Buibui, and look at him.

"Now?" I ask.

"Never...demon..." He weakly said, and I just chuckle as I gather black flame in my right hand.

I point it towards his stomach, more specifically towards his lower stomach, and unleash it. He roars out in pain as my flames begin to burn him, he squirms on the ground.

"Oh God, make it stop, make it stop. Stop, stop, stop, sto-aaah, sto-aaaaaahhh!" He screamed out to God, and I just shook my head, I look at him.

"I can make it all end Buibui, the pain, just tell me where your father is. You'll be freed of this flame." I demanded while offering him a way out, he just looked at me.

"Please...ple-eaaaahhhh!" He screeched as my flames began to probably burn him _there_. "You're killing me..."

"Tell me Buibui, I promise you'll be free." I said as I stepped over towards his face, I knelt down, looking him down in his green eyes.

"He's...he's in Jump City...California." I smiled as stood back up.

"Thank you..." I thanked him as I raised my foot above his head.

I then sent it down, smashing his brains all over the concrete.

* * *

A shower, yes, that's what I needed. Warm water pouring over my skin, my kill had been completed, and I made sure it was clean. No one saw my face, no one survived me, and nothing was left for them to trace me.

I had, once again, killed a member of that bastard organization. With it, came a surprising little thing, and something that made figuring out how to get to Jump City a little more easier. The briefcase, it was plumped with money, and not just any money. It was full of euros, the currency that was primarily the highest in the world.

I was ecstatic to say the least, but I wasn't going to use it all for myself. I took around, I don't know, maybe thirteen thousand euros out of hundreds of thousands in that briefcase. That would be enough to pay for an orphanage somewhere, which is why I dropped it off a Domestic Center, instead of a government center.

True criminals aren't exactly ones that rob you at gunpoint after all, the ones that rob by convincing you that your money is better in their hands are the real thieves. After all, it is common sense, who else is there to manage your money than you and without anything happening to it?

So the thirteen thousand I took, I used it for five things.

One, buy a coach class plane ticket to California to The United States.

Two, buy off someone to make a fake passport, so I can stay in The States.

Three, set me up a nice decent hotel room near the airport, and a hot shower.

Four, buy new clothing.

Five, this one may sound ridiculous, but I bought my mothers' first album,

Her first album had many songs in it, it was actually not very popular, sales didn't really go to far. All I know it does contain my favorite song, and that was _Loving Warm Arms_. Basically, the song was about her holding me for the first time, and strangely. I loved it still, and when I heard her voice I for once smiled.

Only for tears to soon spill all over my faces.


End file.
